


A Unique Approach to Life or Death

by RainbowPools



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dystopian, M/M, Nonsense, Referenced cannibalism, modern au with fantasy elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowPools/pseuds/RainbowPools
Summary: After committing a terrible crime, Besithia is forced to pay a visit to the city’s grandest form of punishment.
Relationships: Verstael Besithia/Ardyn Izunia
Kudos: 15





	A Unique Approach to Life or Death

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose we all write something a little crazy every once in a while, this would be mine. Please enjoy.

In this town you had to be incredibly careful. It was never clear who you could trust, and anything could be considered a crime. The penalties for committing crimes tended to vary, but they all contained some degree of morbid element, be it torture, slavery, exile, or monthly sacrifice to your local canabalistic demon. Verstael Besithia was ever so lucky to receive the last, dreadful form of punishment. He had thrown a heck of a fit when he was arrested, kicking, thrashing, firing his gun. He hit six officers before he was dragged into the police car, where he spent a considerable time writhing and shouting until finally being sedated. He awoke, hands cuffed behind his back and body heavy with fatigue. His blue eyes were half lidded as he glanced around, feet tripping over themselves as the massive arm of a surly guard pushed him along. The corridor they walked down was dark, vacant, and choked with silence, the only noise the guard’s boots echoing off the walls.

“Unhand me,” Verstael spoke low, words full with sleep fog. The guard said nothing, continuing to usher Verstael down the hall. They came before two enormous doors, and Besithia gritted his teeth at the ornate carvings that swirled them. The guard tucked Verstael under one arm, swinging a key off the iron ring on his belt and inserting it into a seal on the doors. They pulled open with a screeching groan. Verstael hardly got a chance to inspect what was beyond those doors before he was shoved inside. His small body hit the stone floor inside with an iconic thud, and the doors were hauled shut behind him. He staggered to his feet, though it was a fair bit harder with bound hands. He backed against the doors, examining his new confinements. It looked uncomfortable at best, stretching stone floors dotted with blood stains and blackened bones, cracks running through the wall, a single skylight, and it was cold.

“A rather sepulchral living arrangement, would you not agree?” his accented baritone melted into a velvety purr as he came before Verstael, materializing in a flurry of red embers. Verstael didn’t get to look or even answer, as the demon disappeared just as soon as he appeared. Verstael took a great step forward, landing where the demon once stood. Warm fingers brushed his wrists, and a click resonated through the empty air, his handcuffs clattering to the ground seconds after. Verstael whirled around, caressing his chafed wrists. There the demon stood, leaning back against the grand wooden doors and tilting his hat. He wasn’t what Besithia expected, a tall muscular man of many layers. A comely face with honey eyes and charming stubble, red tinged hair falling in curling rivulets about his head.

“You’re Adagium?” Verstael breathed.

“Fill free to call me Ardyn, for as long as you’re alive anyways. That was my given name,” Ardyn said. Everyone knew the legend of Adagium, a benign angelic force cursed into grotesque demon-hood by an envious younger brother, now trapped within underground labyrinths and used as punishment for criminals and maniacs such as Verstael.

“I’m sure you know me, but what are **you** doing here?” as he said this, Ardyn paced concentric circles around Verstael, only stopping when they brushed shoulders. “You look a little too soft and pretty to be sentenced to a terrible death,” he caressed the underside of Verstael’s chin. Verstael said nothing, putting a few feet between Ardyn and himself and studying the demon.

“Not much of a talker eh?” Ardyn sighed, “Okay, let’s begin the game shall we? There’s an hourglass hidden in the center of the labyrinth beyond this room. Find it before I maim you, and you get to keep your life. Fail, and you’ll end up like all the other poor fools that come here. There is nothing fun about eating other people, but, I’ve not much of a choice, so do at least make my chase fun. I’ll even give you a three minute head start. Now go on, assuming you aren’t just going to roll over and die.”

Verstael analyzed the information in seconds, shocked but hopeful of the prospect of possibly keeping his life. He pivoted on his heel and took off, following the cracked walls until his path forked. He swerved right and continued, taking the paths that had the least amount of dried ebon blood. Ardyn was behind him in moments, snickering as he pounced. Verstael through himself forward, tumbling to the ground and not escaping without a trio of claw marks burning down his back. It had tarnished his red coat, stinging and staining his pink skin scarlet with blood. Ardyn lunged again. Verstael rolled from harm, spotting a switch nestled in the crevice of the left wall and jerking it down. He gasped, Ardyn having scooped him up by the waist.

“They usually don’t see that lever,” Ardyn murmured, “It blends in nicely. I’ll give you thirty seconds to find the path it unlocks.” He sank his fangs into delicate flesh, and Verstael yelped, a slab of skin at his neck’s nape being ripped off and the hot blood that pooled at the new wound being lapped up.

‘What a filthy creature,” Verstael growled, but the inquisitive gears in his head were turning. He had never come across a thing of Ardyn’s nature. Was studying him worth his life? Not at all, but the police hadn’t given him much option. He immediately started running when Ardyn released him, ignoring the wounds screaming on his neck and back. He had chosen to back track, reasoning that the lever would’ve opened a dead end or overlooked secret passage. Secret passage indeed. Verstael let out a cry as his body dropped into an unseen trap door. He dropped about nine feet, skidding across the gravel floor and wailing as it burned his wounds. His face hit a wall, and a telltale crack accompanied the pain attacking his nose.

Ardyn crouched beside the trap door, “I’ve never seen anyone beat themselves up as you do.” He peered down at Besithia, “Have you any athletic prowess to exercise?” When Besithia didn’t answer, he leapt down the trap door, floating to the crunching ground and circling over to the small blonde. He slid to his knees, pulling Besithia into his lap. The wounds on the criminal’s neck still oozed blood, that which matched the red streaming from his nose. His sapphire eyes were closed, and an unfavorable contusion had formed on his temple.

“Ahhh, and you had so much promise,” Ardyn brushed that fraying blonde tendril from Besithia’s face and lifted his shirt. It was enough to make Besithia gasp. Ardyn examined Verstael’s torso, a taut stomach and freckled chest.

“Hey,” Verstael cringed as a cool glove brushed over his pinkish skin. Ardyn dipped his head, fangs imbedding into the skin at Verstael’s ribs. Besithia all but howled, flesh tearing, tissue breaking, and then bone puncturing. His eyes enlarged and adrenalin pumped through him. He kicked in thrashed, one well powered thrust of the hips catapulting Ardyn away from him. He leapt to his feet, bolting down the nearest hall winding out from the trap door antechamber. His breaths came clipped and his head spun, but he managed to find another dead end expanse with a trap door lying open nine feet overhead. The challenge was figuring how to get up there. His stomach churned and sent bile shooting up his throat. He doubled over, tumbling to his knees and emptying the contents of his stomach onto the gravel beneath him. Make ignoring the agony a second challenge. He glanced around, his only option seeming to be the grooves in the wall. He exhaled, biting into the collar of his black shirt and running. He launched himself into the air, clutching the ragged rock serving as the wall best he could.

... ... 

It took forever to climb up the wall. He had little footholds and lacked the strengths to keep himself suspended in the air for long, but he made it. He collapsed, body going slack on the first floor of this horrendous underground labyrinth. He collected his breaths, withholding livid tears from the dread of it all. Ardyn was toying with him too, as Verstael was one hundred percent sure he could’ve caught him by now.

“Giving up?” Ardyn floated up from the trap door, perfunctory as a feather, and landed in Besithia’s periphery. His head was cocked, amber eyes glinting. Besithia wheezed, dragging his body off the ground. He felt as though his body was drenched in water, heavy and cold. Ardyn pounced, pinning him on his back. He hovered over him, hands on either side of his freckled face and knee resting on his heaving stomach. 

Besithia sucked in a breath, “What, What is it like?”

“Come again?” Ardyn tipped his head.

Verstael knew he didn’t have any energy for another assault, might as well get in his research before his life was taken. “What is it like, being trapped in this endless maze? Being forced to prey on something nigh your own kind?”

Ardyn settled into a straddle, hand under his chin. He hadn’t been asked before. “Lonesome,” he breathed, after some thought.

“Lonesome?” Verstael expected dreadful, miserable, painful even.

“Yes,” Ardyn bobbed his chin, “I’m a rather gregarious spirit, and the only people I ever get to interact with are those whom are sent to die, my food. It’s dark and cold down here, not exactly an appealing date spot. Only the shadows of the past hold my company.”

“And what are they like? What memories are most common. You’ve been around for quite some time, I’m sure your recollections are numerous.”

“No,” Ardyn crawled from Besithia and instead scooped him into his arms bridal ways, “The years spent in this penitentiary are plagued with monotony. There’s hardly anything I remember past last week that has naught to do with the deep deep history of my story.”

“And what is it?” Verstael took a sweeping glance around as Ardyn carried him. They were advancing further into the labyrinth, Ardyn taking paths that defied general logic of a maze. He’d make a left, then right, then right, then left, then left, then right, then unseen trap door, then left. It was a pattern that sensibly, should’ve lead to many a dead ends, but it didn’t.

“I used to be an angelic being of some sort that safeguarded the lives and spiritual journeys of humans. I’d banish a deadly infection in their bodies, brought on by sin and hellish creatures that roamed the earth at the time, by absorbing it into my own body.”

“Sounds painful,” Verstael grunted.

“It most certainly was, but I didn’t care a farthing. I enjoyed helping. In that regard I’d do so in any way that I could, whether it be that I handed out advice, babysat, offered massage, or just indulge the humans company. As payment they made the executive decision to elect me their king. I didn’t desire the title, but it was difficult to veto such cheerful insistence. My younger brother Somnus was hysterical with envy. He had been working hard to win the humans hearts too see? But his methods and personality were unfavored, ignored in lieu of my own. So, he used the infection festering within my body, twisting it with his own magic until I became this. The world and the gods turned against me when I fed upon my first human, though I assure you it was on complete accident. Yet, when I surrendered to my brother for the safety of those humans I loved so much, he banned me here. No one objected.”

“... ... ... I feel that anything I could say wouldn’t be enough to pacify you,” Verstael was dropped to the growing familiarity of the stone floor. He raised to his knees, peering at the dark wall before him. They had entered a room it seemed, a room with light. A luminescent red glow drifted through the air, and Besithia had scant time to search for the source. He stopped short of tossing a look over his shoulder, Ardyn sinking to the floor behind him and grasping his shoulders. Besithia remained still as Ardyn worked off his red coat and black turtleneck, then shuddered at the cool air whispering goosebumps up his exposed skin. He couldn’t ignore the blood, swimming in wet heat down his back and neck now. The bruise throbbing at his temple intensified with pain, sending his head for a whirl. Ardyn had muttered something in reply to his prior statement, but he was too nervous to have heard. “You’re going to?” his voice wavered, eyes wide and mouth ajar.

“I’m afraid so,” Ardyn pulled off his gloves, an iridescent black pus coating his hands. Besithia set his jaw and regulated his breathing. If he was going to die, he would do so as himself, in control and inquisitive. “You must enjoy some part of your life here, otherwise you wouldn’t make such a game out of your food.”

“What can I say? I adore humans, so I try to be around them best I can,” Ardyn tasted Verstael’s blood, “Blood and skin are always the best parts if you’re wondering.” He pressed a hand to Verstael’s side. The latter screamed, whatever that black liquid was spreading. It skittered down his stomach and into his left pectoral, charring and bubbling the skin it touched. He bowed his head. “What’s so interesting about humans?” He breathed between pants.

Ardyn moved his thumb along Verstael’s darkened skin, as if trying to soothe the pain. “There’s usually something so unique about the humans that are sent my way. Like you, they expect me to believe you, a tiny, pink, freckled, baby faced thing is a criminal? What did you do anyways?”

“This inquisition is concerning you, not myself,” Verstael bit, forcing back a weak sob as Ardyn treated him to a most grotesque sight. That is, inserting his nail under Verstael’s charred skin, flipping off a piece of it, and proceeding to eat it. Besithia pushed vomit down his throat, unable to look at the hole of fatty white tissue it left. He had seen some rather gruesome scenes in his day, but something about living those scenes was far harder to handle.

“Won’t give me the leisure of getting to know you eh?” Ardyn leaned back and exhaled, “Too bad.” He reached for Verstael, fangs bared and ready to tear him open. 

“Could I see where the light is coming from?” Verstael was just prolonging the inevitable now, not wanting to die and full of questions.

Ardyn stood, “Take a look behind you.” Verstael struggled to his feet, turning and leaning against the wall. He scanned the enormous chamber they were in and frowned. In the center of the room lie the hourglass, tall and filled with glistering red sand.

Ardyn couldn’t resist chuckling at the other’s face, “It’s been here as long as I have. Somnus said it’s the power I had as an angelic force. I can’t touch it now otherwise I end up mutilated and unconscious, so I suppose he spoke true. A constant echo of what I once was, I suppose. How thoroughly depressing.”

“Intriguing. May I have a look?” Verstael had an idea.

Ardyn shrugged, “Of course, but know that it doesn’t affect the outcome of your life now.”

Besithia nodded, hobbling over to the hourglass. It was about half his size, so he fought hefting it into his arms. Although the Light was passionately red, it was almost blinding. He watched the unending sand run, emptying as glittering dust particles in the air. the glass was warm, a welcome heat reverberating through his chest.

“You can touch my powers, but **I can’t** touch my powers? That’s hardly fair,” Ardyn clutched his heart, feigning hurt.

“Surely you knew of this?”

“Oh not at all. No one ever makes it to this glass. The only reason you did is because you started talking to me, and I felt it suitable that you saw where it was before you died,” Ardyn stepped toward him. With what strength remained, Besithia reeled back and flung the glass in Ardyn’s direction. Ardyn yipped, red sand and glass shards flying everywhere. Each individual grain pressed into his skin, eyes, hair, orifices, and body cavities, boiling every fiber of his being to an unbearable temperature. He wailed in agony, slamming into the ground and clawing at the cracks in the stone. He hissed, jabbing an unforgiving scowl at Verstael. Verstael observed Ardyn’s manic twisting and flailing, his body aglow with red light. When it faded, Ardyn calmed. He wobbled to his feet, gazing down at his hands. They were free of black goo, and his once retractable claws had been reduced to regular fingernails. He bit his lip, testing the sharpness of his fangs to find that he didn’t have them. “You ...” he glanced to Besithia. Besithia had seen better days. His body was slack on the ground, blood, and burnt skin, and black ooze consuming his person. His breathing was labored, and he moaned in pain. His eyes were hardly open, blinking more than usual as he tried to stay awake. Ardyn ambled over to him, staring down at him for a measured time before scooping him up to his chest and strolling from the room. 

“What’re you-“ Verstael started. Ardyn shushed him as they advanced down the labyrinth’s halls. After some time they returned to the room where it had all began. Ardyn put Verstael down for a moment, materializing a great red sword from his new found armiger. His lips quirked into a grin as he ran his hands down the metal blade. He took a few practice swings before leaping up and swinging it into the skylight. The glass shattered in seconds, raining in hard clinks to the floor. Ardyn hoisted the near sleeping Besithia into his arms once more, jumping up out of the sky light and landing on the pavement above ground. He glanced around, drinking in the city circumjacent him. How cruel of it was Somnus to burry him under his own city? Tall buildings lit with colorful luminescence stretched to the black sky overhead, and light fixtures of grandeur illuminated the wide, intersecting streets.

“Where do you live?” Ardyn peered down at Besithia, who swayed precariously in his arms and mumbled out a set of numbers and street name. He was too injured to think it seemed. Ardyn hummed, and with a mixed art of shadow stepping and flight, arrived at Besithia’s two-story. The door was locked, so he warped right through it. The police had done a fine job of invading upon Besithia’s privacy. His IDs, birth certificates, passports, resumes, and any other matter of personal document was strewn about the couches and coffee table. It looked to be a nice house though. Ardyn searched the hall closet, retrieving a thick towel. He sprawled the towel across Verstael’s bed and then lied the afore mentioned on top. Ardyn straddled him once more. Verstael blinked up at him, dry eyed and light headed. Ardyn only pressed down on his heart with one hand, and massaged the aching muscles of his neck with the other. Besithia allowed a soft moan as that familiar red warmth spread through him, expanding past his chest and up his shoulders, down his thighs and across his arms, billowing his head. Ardyn’s hands roamed up and down his body, imbuing his skin with that warmth, that magic. It was amazing. Ardyn touched his forehead to Verstael’s, tangling a hand in his blonde hair. “You’re injuries will fade in a couple hours. Why not rest?” he kissed his nose and disengaged. Verstael danced his fingers across Ardyn’s face absently and then let his hand drop, closing his eyes.

... ... 

When next he woke it was by the need to bathe, and so he did. When he finished, dressed in a favorite red coat and smelling of honeysuckle and velvet, he came across Ardyn. The older man was lounging in the kitchen, skimming through Verstael’s personal documents without an ounce of shame.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Verstael eased into the chair opposing Ardyn.

“So, your name is Verstael Besithia,” Ardyn looked up at him, lips shaping his name. It tasted as good as his blood, and that thought alone made Ardyn feel strange. He tipped his head, “You look quite young to be in your forties. You’re a scientist and doctor. You have one kid but no romantic interests, and you were arrested for ... murder?”

“I killed my ex boyfriend Caligo,” Verstael deadpanned.

“I’ll have to probe that story out of you. But for now, have you anything for me to eat, and possibly something else to wear?”

Besithia huffed. He hardly wanted to cater to the thing that near ate him, but, alongside being curious, he was certain Ardyn could kill him should he not comply. There was another reason, but he refused to acknowledge it. So he instructed Ardyn to hit the bath while he went and purchased a few sets of clean clothes under the hood of his coat. His good friend Ravus was fulfilling his part time job at retail and recognized him, so Verstael spent the walk home explaining why he wasn’t in fact dead.

“I’m coming over tomorrow Verst. There’s a lot of things we have to figure out,” Ravus had said after escorting Besithia to his door. Verstael gave a simple nod, vanishing into the house and draping Ardyn’s clothes on the sink without looking at him. Then, he got cooking. Ardyn was done by the time he had slipped his dish into the oven.

“Wow. I’m so glad I was able to bathe again,” Ardyn swaggered into the kitchen, backing Verstael into the refrigerator without warning.

“What are you doing?” Verstael was getting more than irritated with Ardyn’s obnoxious, _Do as I please_ demeanor.

“Saying thank you,” Ardyn leant forward and kissed Verstael. Verstael didn’t push him away, but was too shocked to react.

Ardyn withdrew, “Tell me, did you know that breaking the hourglass on me would return me to my original form?”

“I hypothesized that if that hourglass did have your powers, then it would heal the infection within you. I barely expected you’d return to your original form,” Verstael found it hard to concentrate as Ardyn trailed kisses along his neck. Why was he doing this?

“Brains **and** beauty,” Ardyn moved to nestle himself in a chair, “I am lucky, aren’t I?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’ll be working in my favor if I am to be taking care of you.”

“Doable,” Ardyn winked.

“Oh, and cease your unnecessary touching as well.”

“You would have me desist my affections for the one who saved me?” Ardyn was up again, arms twining around Verstael’s waist and bringing him close. Verstael nodded, failing to wriggle from the embrace.

“I simply couldn’t do that,” Ardyn squeezed harder. Besithia exhaled.


End file.
